[28th Feb 2000 – 9:00 AM, Bank of America Corporate Tower, Midtown Manhattan]
The morning sky over Manhattan was grey and metallic, the kind of sky that matched the mood of bankers and lawyers huddled in high-rise boardrooms. From the 52nd floor of the Bank of America Tower, the city looked like an organised engine — gears of ambition turning in every direction. Inside one of the glass conference rooms overlooking Bryant Park, that same energy condensed and culminated.
Xavier James sat at the head of the polished table, his navy suit immaculate, his posture calm. To his right sat Jess Person, his legal counsel, flipping through the facility term sheet with steady precision. Across from them were Mark Ellison, Managing Director of Corporate Lending at Bank of America, and Priya Patel, the bank's senior structuring officer.
"Mr James," Ellison began, voice smooth but deliberate, "the committee has reviewed your proposal for a $2 billion syndicated term loan. We understand this will be used primarily for the acquisition of the New York Tigers franchise, as well as subsequent capital injections into team operations and facilities, correct?"
"That's correct," Xavier replied. "The purchase itself is already secured — seven hundred million Dollars, plus transaction costs. This loan will cover the second stage: facilities, training development, and the new stadium project. The Tigers' future can't be built in someone else's house."
Ellison's mouth curved slightly. "That's an expensive sentiment."
Priya Patel glanced at her folder. "The proposed structure, a three-year term, seven per cent fixed with quarterly compounding, is conservative for this market. The committee will want justification for fixed pricing instead of a floating rate tied to LIBOR."
Xavier could tell that she was overconfident and simply wanted to make a big enough deal to stand out to the higher-ups. No one could blame her, as sentiment on Wall Street remained optimistic on the tech side. Even though a few savvy investors, such as himself, had quietly switched positions to bet on the collapse.
Ignorance, or rather greed, made most institutions unwilling to believe that the dot-com bubble could collapse despite the indicators. Indicators only mattered when they actually came true; most of the time, they could be pushed back as long as possible, and that's what happened to the dot-com bubble. How else could one explain how all these companies that did not make money had their stocks exploding up?
Xavier did not mind too much as he would eventually make a lot of money from the crash if it occurred in the next two months. That's as long as he could hold out for with all his leveraged positions. He was quite literally walking a tightrope on the verge of squandering his family's inheritance if even one thing went wrong.
Some might say he was foolish, nothing more than an idiot gambling everything away. But this had been one of the projects he and his father had predicted and prepared for. He trusted the system they had created together, plus the upsides of being able to make a lot of money and then cement his holdings in the companies that were torpedoed, made it irresistible not to gamble.
Jess answered before Xavier needed to. "Given the volatility in short-term rates and the scale of the principal, fixed exposure ensures stability. Mr James is assuming direct corporate liability through Apex Ventures' capital arm. There's no cross-collateralisation across his personal portfolio."
Ellison tapped his Montblanc pen against the folder. "And the pledged security remains the same? A ten-per cent minority interest in 'The Message,' your media subsidiary?"
"Yes," Xavier said evenly, watching the man almost salivate in greed at the prospect of finally being able to own a part of the roughly one point eight billion media company. It had a distribution network all over most of the world, owning subsidiaries in different countries that were also successful. The only problem James Senior had was keeping the media empire private, not budging on investment proposals as he quietly grew it into a global voice.
It wasn't the biggest media company, but it was a significant one that any financial institution on Wall Street would love to sink its fangs into. So, despite outwardly appearing disappointed, the man knew this was a good enough chip if the investment were to fall through. As a matter of fact, some of the higher-ups might even want this to fall through just to claim the collateral.
Ellison exchanged a glance with Patel, then cleared his throat. "In that case, Mr James, we'd like to include a Rule 144A resale clause within the syndicated loan facility."
Rule 144A was enacted under the U.S. Securities Act of 1933, which allows restricted securities or debt instruments to be privately resold to qualified institutional buyers — typically pension funds, hedge funds, and large asset managers — without registering them with the SEC. It's essentially a shortcut to private-market liquidity. By embedding a 144A clause, we make portions of your loan tradable as private notes among institutional investors.
"It's cleaner, faster, and gives the bank flexibility to syndicate or offload risk exposure. It also broadens investor appetite for the facility since they know they can resell their stake later." Ellison clarified, but Xavier hardly bought it as In simpler terms, the clause turned pieces of his debt into quiet currency, negotiable paper moving behind closed doors among America's most powerful money managers. "Naturally, there's a small yield adjustment to account for placement costs. But it won't affect your principal obligations. You'll still make quarterly interest payments directly to the lead arranger."
He said it smoothly, but Xavier heard the subtext, 'you're paying for our flexibility.' It was a fair trade; He wanted the money fast, and they wanted a way to profit twice.
"Fine," Xavier said at last, his tone decisive. This clause could help him save a quarter of his investment even if the economy slumped, which he expected, so it didn't really matter. "Include the clause."
Patel scribbled a note on her pad, signalling quiet approval. Ellison closed his folder with a satisfied click. "Then we're agreed. I'll have the facility documentation drafted and circulated by the end of the day. The syndication desk will begin distributing allocations by tomorrow morning."
Xavier stood, buttoning his suit jacket. "Good. I expect funding to be cleared by the first of March."
"Ambitious timeline," Ellison remarked.
"That's what makes it worth doing," Xavier said, his expression unreadable as they shook hands, ending the meeting with both their objectives met.
~~~
[28/2/2000, 10:00 AM, Hofstra University, Hempstead, N.Y]
The old headquarters of the New York Tigers looked every bit its age. Nestled within the sports complex at Hofstra University, the facility bore the fading grandeur of a team that had once achieved the highest honour in the National Football League. They had only won one Super Bowl in their long history, shared a training complex with a university, and leased a stadium from one of their town rivals.
Honestly, they were practically an NFL team in name only, and their only selling point was being based in the Big Apple. A loyal Queens fan base also helped, but the fact that they weren't set there made things worse. Still, the potential was there, and if he could construct a stadium in Queens, he could break even in 4 years from this venture alone.
In a corner office overlooking the practice fields, James B. Hess sat behind his walnut desk, reviewing the last stack of papers in front of him. The franchise seal, a tiger mid-pounce, was embossed across the top page. Behind him, a framed photo of his father holding the team's only Super Bowl trophy stared down from the wall.
The door opened after a short knock. "Morning, James," Xavier said as he stepped inside, his voice smooth and professional. He set his leather briefcase on the table and shook Hess's hand. "Sorry, I'm late, Manhattan traffic's the one thing money can't fix."
Hess chuckled, gesturing for him to sit. "You're right about that. But you made it, and that's what matters."
They continued to converse for the next few minutes as they waited for their legal teams to check the final contracts. They did not have to wait long as Jess Person and her team entered with Hess's legal team. They set down a folder marked Apex Ventures – Franchise Acquisition Final Agreement, followed by a league attorney carrying a thick binder.
The NFL's representative, an older man named David Wells, stood in the corner, serving as the official witness to the transaction. "Well," Hess said, exhaling softly, "after forty-two years, the Tigers are leaving the Hess family. My father would've had mixed feelings, but I think he'd appreciate that it's going to someone who had the same ambition he first had."
There was a moment of silence as he reminisced before Jess glanced at the league attorney, breaking the moment. "Shall we begin?"
The lawyer nodded, adjusting his glasses. "The sale agreement between the Hess Family Trust and Apex Ventures Holdings, covering full ownership rights to the New York Tigers franchise, is now ready for execution. Total consideration: $700 million USD, payable immediately upon verification of funds transfer."
A bank liaison standing by the phone confirmed, "Funds have been wired. Clearance expected within the hour."
"Then," Hess said, lifting his pen, "let's make it official."
The scratching of pens filled the room, one signature after another: Hess's beside Xavier's elegant cursive. Jess signed as a witness, followed by the league representative. When it was done, Hess leaned back, staring at the freshly signed papers for a long moment before closing the folder. "And that's that," he said softly, almost to himself. "Forty-two years… gone in five signatures."
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To Be Continued...